18: Chapter 18: A talent agency wants to sign you.

Zhang Fan had just stepped out of the revolving door of the Sheraton Hotel when his phone vibrated.

A strange local number popped up on the screen, ending in three 8s; it didn't look like a scam call.

"Hello?"

"Brother! Have you cashed in that scratch-off ticket you won the other day?" A somewhat familiar voice came through the receiver. "It's Brother Cannon! From the lottery station!"

Zhang Fan was stunned for two seconds before he realized who it was. "Oh! Brother Cannon! Not yet, I've just been busy with other things."

"Don't forget it! Even though fifty thousand isn't a huge amount of money, it's still yours to claim!"

Brother Cannon's voice was filled with enthusiasm. "By the way, that time you showed your face on my livestream, you went viral! I re-edited the livestream content, and in less than a day, it's already hit over 500 million views across the entire network!"

"500 million?" Zhang Fan was taken aback. The stuff he posted on TikTok never even exceeded 500 views.

"Isn't that the truth!" Brother Cannon laughed until he was panting. "Lots of fans are DMing me asking about you. I was thinking, aren't you out of a job? Why don't you come work with me! I'll pay you a salary, and we can be partners. I guarantee it'll be better than that lousy company you were at before!"

Zhang Fan was confused. "How do you know I don't have a job?"

"You said it while drinking yesterday," Brother Cannon said, as if it were obvious. "You were drunk yesterday, and you had your arm around my neck, saying you got fired by your boss, and also..."

"And what else did I say?" Zhang Fan's heart jumped into his throat, terrified that he might have blurted out something about the system.

"Quite a lot, actually." Brother Cannon counted on his fingers. "You said your girlfriend cheated on you, your project was stolen by a colleague, and your landlord was trying to kick you out... Man, you really used me as a dumping ground that day, crying like a girl."

Zhang Fan's face flushed bright red, hot enough to fry an egg. He finally understood what it meant by "your drinking habits reveal your character."

So it turned out that when he was drunk, he was a chatterbox who spilled all his personal business.

Luckily, he hadn't mentioned the system, or he'd probably be treated like a lunatic now.

"Uh... Brother Cannon, I..."

"Don't 'uh' me!" Brother Cannon interrupted him. "Where are you? I'll drive over and pick you up! Let's get that prize cashed first, and then we'll find a place to have a good talk."

Zhang Fan gave him the address of the Sheraton Hotel, hung up the phone, and stood by the side of the road letting the wind blow on him.

Half an hour later, a semi-old SUV crunched over the gravel on the side of the road, making a "creaking" friction sound as it pulled up at an angle in front of the Sheraton Hotel entrance.

Brother Cannon rolled down the window, rested his bare elbow on the frame, and shouted at Zhang Fan, "Over here!"

The wind was whipping snow flurries into the car, but Brother Cannon was only wearing a black short-sleeved shirt. The tiger tattoo on his arm was reddened by the cold, looking as if it wanted to jump out of his skin. "Get in!"

Zhang Fan pulled open the car door and slid into the passenger seat. A fresh scent of citrus perfume hit him, mixed with a hint of lemon from car wash soap.

"Brother Cannon, your car... it smells quite nice."

"Just washed it!" Brother Cannon laughed heartily. "Damn! The way we both threw up in the backseat yesterday was truly spectacular; if I hadn't washed this car, it would've been a total loss."

"Huh?" Zhang Fan didn't know this, and his face flushed bright red again. "I... I even threw up in your car?"

He had been wondering why he felt like the world was spinning before he blacked out last night. It turned out that besides puking up alcohol, he had also ruined this guy's car.

"I'm sorry, Brother Cannon. The car wash money, I..."

"Are you going to be like that with me?" Brother Cannon glared, then immediately laughed. "Let's go, let's go cash that prize!"

"Uh..." Zhang Fan scratched his head. "I need to go back to the hotel where I'm staying first; the lottery ticket is there."

"Holy crap, you are really laid back!" Brother Cannon turned his head sharply, his cartoon tattoo wobbling with the movement. "That thing is a fifty-thousand grand prize, and you just threw it around? What if someone rummaged through your bag?"

"Uh..." Zhang Fan was too embarrassed to say that he had pressed the lottery ticket under his shirt and stuffed it into a plastic bag. "I was just delayed by things. It's pretty safe at the hotel; the owner is a good person."

Brother Cannon clicked his tongue, didn't press further, and turned the steering wheel. "Fine, let's go get it first. Honestly, if it were me, I'd keep that ticket tucked against my chest, and I'd sleep with one eye open."

Zhang Fan smiled, feeling a little warmth in his heart.

The SUV wound through the old alleys and stopped in front of the small hotel where Zhang Fan was staying.

Fat Auntie was sitting in the duty room eating melon seeds. Seeing him get out of such an impressive car, her eyes widened into round circles. "Xiao Zhang, who is this..."

"Yeah, Auntie, I'm just here to pick up something." Zhang Fan smiled at her and started to head upstairs, but then, as if remembering something, he turned back, pulled ten red bills from his pocket, and handed them over. "Auntie, I'll pay a thousand in advance for the room rent, please keep it."

"Hey, hey, no need for so much!" Fat Auntie quickly waved her hands, wiping them on her apron. "Just pay whenever you leave; why pay so much in advance?"

She paused, then seemed to remember something. "By the way, you specifically told me yesterday that there were important things in the room, so I didn't go in to tidy up. Do you want me to sweep it for you now?"

"No, no need." Zhang Fan waved his hands with a smile. "I'm just going to grab my things and leave. Let's talk about it when I come back later, so you don't make a wasted trip."

"Alright then." Fat Auntie took the money, tapped it against her palm, folded it neatly, and stuffed it into her apron pocket. "I'll keep this money for you then, and we'll settle the difference later."

"Sorry for the trouble, Auntie." Zhang Fan nodded and turned to walk toward the stairs.

Downstairs, Brother Cannon didn't go up; he leaned against the car, chatting with Fat Auntie.

Opening his suitcase, the lottery ticket was pressed under his spare shirt. He picked it up and held it to the light. Yes! It was the one with the 33 at the end.

He tucked the lottery ticket into his inner pocket, thought for a moment, and put all his other money on himself before going downstairs.

"Got it?" Brother Cannon asked when he saw Zhang Fan coming downstairs so quickly.

"Yeah." Zhang Fan nodded and turned to wave at Fat Auntie. "Auntie, we're leaving now."

As the SUV drove toward the prize redemption center, Brother Cannon suddenly said, "After the video went viral today, a talent agency contacted me first thing this morning, saying they want to sign you as a streamer with a guaranteed annual salary of 500,000."

Zhang Fan was stunned. "500,000?"

"Exactly!" Brother Cannon clicked his tongue. "They said that with your face, just standing in front of the camera, you're ten times better than a fatty like me. But I didn't agree; I had to ask you first."

"Why?"

"I don't think you're the type to be content just being eye candy." Brother Cannon turned to look at him, smiling so that his dimples showed. "Yesterday, when you scratched that fifty thousand, your eyes were bright as if they had fire in them. That kind of drive isn't from someone who wants to rely on their looks to make a living."

Zhang Fan felt a warmth in his heart. This fatty might look careless, but he saw things more accurately than anyone.

There was basically no one at the prize redemption center. After a young girl verified the lottery ticket, she smiled and said, "Sir, you are really lucky. This is the first grand prize in the 'Chinese New Year' series!"

After taxes were deducted, forty thousand in cash was placed in a kraft paper bag, feeling heavy in his hand.

Zhang Fan gripped the top of the bag, suddenly feeling more secure than he had with that one-million investment—this was the first money he had "earned" on his own; it was clean and straightforward.

"Let's go, let's go eat!" Brother Cannon pulled him toward a small restaurant nearby. "I know a place that serves lamb spine hot pot; it's super authentic!"